


Unexplainable Connection

by Wistful_wanderer



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-26 01:08:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20035360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wistful_wanderer/pseuds/Wistful_wanderer
Summary: Robin meets Regina in a pub, and, well, things get...heated.





	Unexplainable Connection

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this story a couple years ago, and thought I would go ahead and post it here. I might continue it, so I'm definitely open to prompts. You can find me on twitter @Wistful_Wander. Thanks for reading!

Robin had intended to spend the night alone occupying the town’s only pub. Knocking back a few pints before heading back to the room he’d managed to snag for the night, setting out bright and early the next morning to venture back home.

He had been on something of a holiday recently. Having decided that time away could be good for him - might help him loosen up a tad. He’d arrived in the States about three weeks ago, began his journey in New York, spending a day in the big city before making his way up the east coast, stopping in as many small towns as he could. His mother was from somewhere around here (though he can’t remember the exact name, just that it was somewhere in Maine). She’d told him many stories as a young lad about her upbringing on the northeast American coast. Those stories had always made him eager to see her world, to see where she grew up, and now that he was financially stable enough to do so, he took his chance. 

He never stayed in any place for long, though. He hated monotony, the repetition of the daily grind like nails on a chalkboard to his soul. He never had any reason to linger in any of the towns he went to, and leaving just came naturally to him. There was a certain charm to small towns, the mystery of it, knowing that just his very presence brings about the curious nature of the locals. There is a much more intimate interaction with people when the seductive promise of never crossing paths again is there. It’s very...quaint. Homey. 

London was nothing like this; a city bursting with people, but with the constant overhang of loneliness..

Now, he’d gotten his fill of wanderlust and was ready - more or less - to head back home to his bed, back to his daily routine, even if it did involve going back to an empty flat in a bustling city. But as he steps into the pub all of those innocent plans of his vanish the moment he lays eyes on her, and his breath stops.

It’s almost comical the way he feels his heart stutter in his chest at the mere sight of a woman he’s never met. Her dark hair lands just at her shoulder, her lips the color of the deepest red to go with her sinfully tight dress that hugs every wonderful curve, stopping just above her knee to give a tantalizing view of her legs. She’s an enchantress. A siren, surely meant to lure him to his death, but if that is how he is to go, he shall go willingly into her trap.

She glances up at the sound of the door, and her eyes latch onto his with a certain curiosity in their depths. He’s staring, mouth hanging open absurdly, eyes wide, and he must look a fool to her. The goddess chuckles - and oh, it’s a siren call if he’s ever heard one, dripping with elegance. Her eyes peruse him, gliding slowly from head to toe, and she’s inviting him closer with a tilt of her head. He moves towards her, a man possessed.

His heart pounds faster with every step he takes to her, doesn’t even know her name, but he wants to know all of her. Wants to unlock every secret this goddess possesses until he can unravel the mystery behind her coy smile and dark eyes.

Robin reaches her, clenching his fists to keep from touching her, from taking her into his arms, and he is puzzled that he should feel that need at all. It’s...alarming. He has never been so compelled to occupy the same space as someone, a stranger at that. Yes, she’s beautiful – breathtaking even – but he suspects that there must be more to it than that. 

He feels he may be going mad.

She looks up at him, and she’s so tiny he thinks he could pick her up with one arm. His mind wanders off then, and he fantasizes about how easy it would be to pick her up...push her against a wall, her legs wrapped around him, fucking her while she muffles her screams in his shoulder...

He blinks, snaps himself out of his less than appropriate thoughts, and meets her gaze. She’s smirking at him, as if she knows exactly where his mind has drifted off to. He swallows, lets his tongue peek out to wet his lips, and it doesn’t escape his notice that her eyes dart down at the action.

Maybe he isn’t the only one affected by this proximity.

She turns, darting deeper into the bar before glancing back at him. He hesitates only a moment before following, never wishing to be far from her. Again, he is struck with the thought of how absolutely insane this all is. They haven’t even exchanged a word, and he is behaving as if he has lost all sense of rationality. Perhaps he has.

She leads him back to a dimly lit corner of the pub that offers a glimmer of privacy. The pub isn’t busy, not by a long shot, but it’s nice being tucked away while he makes a fool of himself with this beguiling woman.

They sit at the back of a rounded booth, not touching, but close enough that he can feel the heat of her body next to his. After a moment (during which she takes a sip of her wine and it dawns on him that he didn’t even get a drink at the bar, so distracted he was by this temptress), her voice reaches him, low and velvety, and just the sound of it has his cock twitching in his trousers, “You aren’t from around here are you?” she asks, and he thinks that yes, if this is how he dies then he will give his life happily.

He grins, angling his body towards her, “Now, what makes you say that, milady?”

She bites her lip, and he nearly groans, wanting nothing more than to take that lip between his own teeth. She smirks, “I’m pretty good with faces; I think I’d remember you.” 

“Is that so?”

“It is,” she states simply, her dark eyes roaming lazily over his form before raising to meet his again. 

He sucks in a breath, her gaze piercing him to his very core, and he is hot all over, burning, desperate for this woman he has just met, a woman that has yet to provide her name. He wonders briefly if she can hear his heart hammering in his chest.

His body sways towards her without any conscious thought on his part, and the words are out before he can think better of them, “Who are you?” he breathes, searching her face.

He sees her breath catch as he moves closer, and it seems to take her a second to process that he’s just spoken. She gathers herself quickly, though, arching a brow before questioning, “Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?” she manages, and he’s sure she meant to sound authoritative, dismissive even, but he caught the quiver in her voice, the slight breathiness of it, and has to admit that he likes that he’s having an effect on her, because she sure as hell is having one on him.

He chuckles, nods, and concedes, “Robin Locksley, milady.” he states, “And no, I’m not from around here, but I must say I’m quite envious of those that are.” He adds pointedly.

She smiles, and God, her smile is stunning. _She_ is stunning. She shakes her head, “Don’t be.” she says, her eyes dropping to her wine as she twirls the stem of the glass on the table, “It’s a rather dull place.”

“Forgive me, but I simply find that hard to believe.”

Her eyes lift to his again and her head tilts in question, “And what makes you so certain?”

“Because from where I’m sitting,” he begins, leaning closer to her, his eyes firmly latched onto hers, “dull is the last word that comes to mind.”

She swallows, her brow furrowing as she shakes her head, “You don’t know anything about me.”

“I don’t have to know anything about you to know that dull is not a term that deserves a place in any realm that you exist.” He finally gives in to his urge to touch her. His hand rises from its place at his side, and his fingers tentatively caress her cheek.

She’s staring at him, her eyes wide in disbelief and something else - fear, maybe? But then her hand mirrors his and her fingers lightly trace over his stubble. Her eyes follow the movement of her hand, and she seems to be deep in thought for a moment before coming to a decision.

Her eyes meet his again, “Why?”

He considers his answer as his fingers make their way into her hair before stilling, and he searches her face carefully as he speaks, “Would you believe me if I said that from the moment I walked through that door that I was drawn to you? That I felt as if I had met you before?”

He shakes his head, saying the words that he inexplicably feels despite only just meeting her, knowing there’s a chance that she’ll walk away at his forwardness, yet unable to prevent them from spilling forth from his tongue like a child without a filter, “I fear perhaps I’m going mad, but you intrigue me. You’re a mystery, yet so familiar at the same time. I can’t explain it, nor do I understand it, but you seem to have bewitched me, and whether that was your intent or not believe me when I say that I would gladly become your prey.” His forehead falls to hers, and he waits for her to pull away after his bold confession.

She doesn’t.

She remains quiet, but their breaths are mingling together, and he gets curious as the silence lingers, “Does it feel that way with you?” He whispers, “When I walked in did you feel it too?”

For a moment the only noise is their combined breathing, but then, “Yes,” she breathes into the space between them, “I feel it too.”

Robin grins before closing the distance between them, his lips meeting hers and tasting those full lips that have taunted him since he laid eyes on her. It’s different than he anticipated, less desperate, and he wonders when this unbridled lust he felt at first seeing her turned into something more intimate.

He savors the taste of her for a moment before he pulls away - not far, never far from her. She opens her eyes and stares at him, and for a second he fears she may walk away from him, and he doesn’t even know her name, but he knows that would crush him.

So when she takes a fistful of his shirt and pulls his mouth back down to hers, he’s shocked to say the least, but then she’s peeking her tongue out to swipe at his lower lip, and his body springs into action as he opens for her, allows her to deepen the kiss, and _good God_ this woman is an excellent kisser.

She moans into his mouth when he nibbles on her lower lip, and Robin knows he’s never heard a more wondrous sound. The hand that’s not already tangled in her hair slides to her waist, and he pulls her as close as he can in the position they’re in. 

His mouth trails a path from her jaw down her neck to her pulse point, and he can feel her sharp intake of breath when he allows his teeth to lightly graze her skin before placing sucking kisses there. Her hand moves to his hair, holding him in place, a whispered _Stay_ reaches his ears and a little lick of satisfaction goes through him at the fact that he can affect her so.

Still though, as much as he wants her, he can’t. Not here at least. They may be relatively secluded, but this is still very much a public place. So after placing one last lingering kiss on her skin, her reluctantly leaves it, smirks at the whimper she gives at the loss, and meets her lips for a final tongue filled kiss before breaking apart and allowing his forehead to fall to hers again. “I’m afraid, milady, that if I keep going I won’t be able to stop, and I don’t think this is the best place for such behavior.”

She grins at him, a wicked, seductive thing, and the sight of it has him hardening even further, “I live just down the street.”

Robin swallows, “Are you certain?”

She snorts out a laugh, “That I live down the street? Yes, I’m fairly certain I do.”

He chuckles, but shakes his head to clarify, “No, I mean are you certain about...this?” he asks, gesturing between the two of them.

She pulls away from him, but just enough so that she can clearly look him in the eyes. She studies him for a bit, as if searching for answers on his face before nodding resolutely, whispering a _Yes, I’m certain_ and sealing her declaration with a chaste kiss.

Robin smiles and nods. He stands, offers her his hand and she takes it, linking their fingers together and then leading him out of the pub.

The walk is quiet, but not uncomfortable, and Robin again thinks of how strange this is. How it feels so natural to be with her, walking through a town that he doesn’t know with the warmth of her body pressed against his. It’s nice, domestic even, and it should terrify him that he feels this way, but it doesn’t, and he’s left wondering why that is.

Before long, they arrive at what appears to be her house, and Robin is struck by how beautiful the home is. It definitely suits its owner, and he is even more convinced of this fact when she opens the door and he is greeted with polished wood floors and spotless furniture. There’s a certain elegance about it that seems to fit her perfectly, and only increases his need to learn all there is to know about her.

“Would you like a drink?” she asks. He turns to her, and she looks nervous, shifting her weight from foot to foot, “I have wine, or whiskey if you’d like something stronger.”

Robin shakes his head and smiles, “I’m fine, thanks.”

She nods and lets out a shaky breath, apparently unsure of how to proceed.

He walks over to her, closing the distance between them before he places his fingers under her chin, tilting it up so she meets his eye, “I’m not expecting anything. This - We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

She swallows, “I know. I just…” She drifts off, closing her eyes and shaking her head, but Robin wants to know all of her, wants to know what she’s thinking in that beautiful mind of hers.

“Just what?” He prompts.

Her eyes open again, and he can see a myriad of emotions swirling within. Her hand rises to his face, her thumb caressing his cheek, “Why does it feel this way with you?” she questions, “It shouldn’t. We don’t even know each other, but I feel as if we do, and that’s ridiculous because of course we don’t, and it’s crazy to think otherwise. I would know if I had met you before, but that doesn’t explain -”

He silences her rambling with a kiss. Just a small, settling gesture before resting his forehead against hers, “I don’t know why it feels this way, and truthfully I don’t exactly care to find out. All I know is that when something feels this right, this natural, that it’s a gift, and I don’t care to decipher gifts. I accept them for what they are, and allow myself to enjoy them.”

She leans back from him enough to arch a disbelieving brow, “So, you aren’t the least bit curious about this?”

“On the contrary, I’m very curious.” He responds, smirking, “I just happen to believe that when something seems this right, that there’s usually no logical explanation, and that sometimes there are things that happen in our lives that simply aren’t meant to be understood.”

“And this,” she points between them, “this seems right to you?”

Robin smiles, “Of all the uncertainty of tonight, that is the one thing I have never felt more certain about. The question is,” he says as his hand once again finds residence in her hair, “does it feel right to you?”

Her eyes search his, and he can see how she battles with her emotions before confessing that “Yes, it does.” One of her hands moves to his neck, and her eyes drop to his lips, but he waits. He will let her make the first move. This will be her decision.

There’s a beat, a moment in which he wonders briefly about how his night turned out like this, and then her lips are on his with a ferocity that he has yet to experience from her, and his mind stops functioning, intoxicated by her.

She tugs on his bottom lip with her teeth, and he groans, deepening the kiss. The hand not tangled in her hair drops to her lower back, and he tugs her as close as he can, their torsos flush as he becomes consumed by her.

Robin is on fire, this woman igniting flames inside him that have lain dormant for years, and as he moves them, stumbling blindly until her back hits the wall, he wonders if he’s ever actually felt those flames with this much intensity. It’s crazy, and he doesn’t even know her name, but he knows that she owns a piece of his soul that will linger long after their little tryst is over.

It’s absurd.

It’s insane.

It’s...fucking amazing.

She grinds against him, and Robin breaks their kiss on a groan, his breathing harsh as he says, “You’re not playing fair, milady.”

Her voice is pure sex as she responds, “What are you gonna do about it?”

Robin growls, his hands sliding down her body to rest just under her ass, and lifts her. She lets out a surprised yelp, her dress now hiked up to her waist and allowing her legs to wrap around his torso to keep her in place. His lips descend on hers again. Desperate. Hungry.

He can’t get enough of her, and with every moan and gasp she makes he feels the sound go straight to his cock. Robin nips and sucks any available skin he can reach, tasting, savoring, figuring out what she likes, what makes her hands clutch almost painfully in his hair. He wants to bring her pleasure, wants to bring her over the edge and hear her lovely voice as she cries in ecstasy.

One of his hands makes its way in between them, works its way under her dress. He trails a finger over her lacy underwear, the fabric soaked to the touch. “_Christ_,” he breathes against her skin. 

She nods frantically, grinding against him, “Please,” she whimpers.

Robin pulls the scrap of lace to the side, his finger stroking through her wetness, teasing just a bit before he finds her clit, circling lightly at first and then firmer as a gasped _Yes!_ reaches his ears.

The angle is slightly awkward for him, so he adjusts his hold on her, lifts her just a bit higher so he has more mobility in his wrist, can move that finger from her clit to her entrance and push it inside her with very little resistance. Her breath catches, and she grinds against his finger as he pumps, inserting another that has her head falling back against the wall.

He creates a steady rhythm, pumping in and out of her with his fingers, occasionally seeking out her clit and giving it a cursory rub, and simply watches her. Watches as her face twists in pleasure, the way her teeth bite into her lower lip when he crooks his fingers just so, her gasps and sighs music to his ears, and thinks about how absolutely stunning this woman is, how he wants to worship her body inch by inch, tasting her skin, tasting _her_.

Oh. Now there’s a nice thought.

Suddenly he stops the movement of his fingers, and she gives him a look full of both confusion and frustration, “What are yo-”

“I need to taste you.”

She swallows, and nods, her voice husky and low, “My bedroom is up the stairs, last door on the right.” and then she’s on him again, her mouth relentless against his, and how he’s supposed to get them up the stairs and to her room he has no idea, but he tries nonetheless.

She’s tugging at the buttons of his shirt as he stumbles to the staircase, and it dawns on him then how completely clothed they still are, and no, that won’t do at all. He searches blindly for the zipper of her dress, sliding it down as much as he’s able in the position they’re in.

They make it to the staircase, but she has just decided to start trailing open-mouthed kisses down his neck, biting and sucking as she goes, and it takes all the concentration Robin has to focus on each step, and not trip and fall with the exquisite beauty that’s currently in his arms. 

His shirt is now completely unbuttoned, but he can’t remove it without setting her down, and that is something that he refuses to do. Her hands trail over his exposed chest and abdomen, her nails lightly grazing his skin, and he groans, has to stop his progress on the stairs. He can feel her grinning against his skin as she makes it as difficult as possible for him to make it to his destination. Minx.

His mouth finds its way to her ear, “If I didn’t know any better milady, I’d say you really don’t want me to make it to your room.”

She chuckles, her breath washing over his cheek, “Well, I’ve never been fucked on my staircase before.”

Robin groans, his head falling against her shoulder. This woman will be the death of him, he’s certain of it. He places a nipping kiss there, and hears her suck in a breath at the action. He smirks, turnabout is fair play after all. 

“Maybe next time.” For now, he wants to taste her, make her come with his face between her thighs, something made much easier with access to a bed rather than on a hard wooden staircase. He works on getting up the steps again, his lips feasting upon her neck, her moans spurring him on. 

His trousers are uncomfortably tight, made even more so by the absolute goddess of a woman currently grinding against him again and again. He adjusts his hold on her more than once, trying to both prevent her from falling and to move her core away from his cock to prevent himself from coming in his pants like some goddamn teenager.

And then he’s finally there. In her room. At her bed.

It feels as if he’s dreaming, living another life worlds away from where all his memories lie, and as he deposits her on her bed, his fingers caressing her skin and watching as she arches into his touch, he thinks he’d like never to wake up.

He’s hyperaware of everything; her breath as it catches when his scruff tickles her thighs, her skin, smooth as silk, as he removes the scrap of lace separating his mouth from where she is wet and waiting. He takes a breath, thanking all the gods that he went to that pub tonight, places a chaste kiss to the skin of her inner thigh, and dives in.

Robin gives her a long lick, tasting, savoring. God, she tastes amazing. Her high pitched moan of his name reaches him - _Robin_, she says - and fuck, if that isn’t the sexiest thing he’s ever heard. He treats her to another slow pass of his tongue against her, reveling in the sounds she makes, before moving to her clit and sucking the while his tongue swirls over it.

She releases a loud moan that goes straight to his cock and arches off the bed, and he moves a hand to her abdomen to keep her in place as he drives her to a frenzy with his mouth and tongue. Her cries of pleasure encouraging him as he brings her to the brink.

“Your - _fuck_ \- your fingers! I need - oh god - your fingers. Please.” She begs.

And who is he to deny her? He slides two fingers into her, and they go in so easily, wet as she is. He brings his mouth to her clit again and sucks right as he hooks those fingers inside her.

Her _Yes!_ and _Oh, fuck!_ tell him all he needs to know and he does it again, another time, once more before she is screaming her release, coming on his fingers. He continues his ministrations, drawing out her orgasm until she finally pushes him away. 

Robin crawls over her, drawing her into a deep kiss, and when she moans into his mouth, he knows he’s a goner (Lies. He knew he was a goner from the moment they made eye contact in the pub).

She breaks their kiss and moves further onto the bed, making room for him to join her. He removes the rest of his clothes - and Jesus, how the hell are they still clothed - and watches as she does the same.

When she’s finally bare to him, he takes a moment to just stare and admire the incredible woman that’s before him, ready and willing. He simply can’t believe his night has brought him here, to her. Surely, this is too good to be true.

“Are you just gonna stand there, or are you gonna fuck me?” She asks with a tilt of her head and a smirk.

Her voice snaps him out of it, and he matches her smirk with one of his own before fishing a condom from his wallet and tossing it on the bed before joining her.

She meets him halfway, claiming his lips with her own. He groans as she takes his bottom lip between her teeth before deepening the kiss. His hands caress her sides before sliding down further to grasp a handful of her lovely ass. Her moan of approval music to his ears, and he takes that moment to guide her to lay back on the bed and he follows, using his forearm to support his weight.

He reaches blindly for the condom, and parts from her lips long enough to rip the foil and roll it on.

And then he’s sinking into her.

And it’s fucking amazing.

All the air whooshes out of him at the feel of her around him. She’s so goddamn wet and tight that when she starts moving her hips he groans, tells her “Wait,” and “Just need a moment.” for fear of ending this before it truly even begins. He wants this to last.

She smirks at him, but thankfully obliges.

Robin takes a breath, another, one more before he slowly begins to move. Shallow thrusts of his hips against hers, and fucking hell she feels amazing, and he tells her so.

“You too,” she breathes, and, “faster”.

He ups his pace a bit and groans at the feel of her as he slides in and out of her, her moans and gasps encouraging him. His mouth descends on her neck, placing wet, nipping kisses on her skin as one her hands find its way to the nape of his neck, her nails grasping the hair there and she gasps and tugs at his hair when he finds a particularly sensitive spot below her ear.

She moves her legs so her feet are flat on the bed, and it changes the angle a bit, and she must want more because she drags his mouth to hers and whispers against his lips “_Harder_”.

And he is only too happy to comply. He hooks his arm under her left leg, pulls nearly all the way out of her and thrusts back in hard and fast. She lets out a loud cry, and fuck that’s the hottest thing he’s ever heard. He does it again and she whimpers _oh God_.

Robin keeps up the pace, and he can tell she’s getting close, and he wants desperately to see her come again, so he nibbles on her ear lobe, whispers, “Tell me what to do to make you come, lovely.”

“My clit - I need - _Robin_” He groans, head falling against her shoulder at the sound of his name falling from her lips, and he places a kiss to her shoulder before moving to his task.

The hand not holding her leg slides down to where they are joined, his fingers searching for her clit and rubbing tight circles.

She lets out a sound that nearly makes him come on the spot, and he has to take several breaths to reign himself in. He continues circling her clit, his hips thrusting into her, and fuck it’s amazing, and if he never sees this wonderful woman again at least he has this night in his memory. He thrusts once, twice more before she comes with a cry of his name, her nails making trails down the length of his back as she rides out her high.

Robin tries to last as long as he can to prolong her orgasm, but it’s only seconds later that he follows her release, unable to hold back any longer.

He takes a moment as they come down from their high to just look at her, and admire the flushed tint to her skin, the brightness of her eyes as she meets his gaze and smiles at him in such a serene way that it makes his heart soar (it shouldn’t, they don’t even know each other, but this night has been anything but normal, so Robin just chooses to ignore that fact).

He pulls out of her and gets up to discard the condom, taking note of her smirk when he comes back out of the bathroom, “What?” he asks.

“Just admiring the view.”

Robin chuckles and shakes his head. He gets settled on the bed beside her, and they lay facing each other, his hand caressing up and down her side. He can’t help but hope that he will get to see this woman again after tonight. It would be a cruel twist of fate for them to meet and never cross paths again (almost as bad as never having met her in the first place, for at least then he wouldn’t know what he was missing, but then, he would never have this night’s memories to keep him company when he’s alone, and well, that wouldn’t do either). His eyes follow the movement of his hand, and before long her voice reaches him, “Penny for your thoughts?”

He sighs, his hand stopping its movement up and down her side, before he meets her eyes, “What’s your name?”

She seems momentarily thrown by his question, her eyebrows raising before she seems to realize that no, she hadn’t told him her name because they got a bit too caught up in each other, and she chuckles a bit before confessing a quiet, “Regina.”

“Regina,” he repeats, testing the name on his tongue. It suits her. A queen, most definitely. He tells her as much.

She smiles one of those carefree smiles of hers that he’s quickly becoming addicted to, “Thank you”.

They’re quiet for a moment, and his hand resumes its lazy movement once more, pausing to make little patterns on her skin before continuing. Down and up, down and up. It’s almost hypnotic, and it lulls him, makes him feels even more relaxed with her. He breaks the silence first, “I never do this, just so you know.”

She - Regina, smirks at him, “What? Sleep with a girl whose name you don’t even know?”

Robin chuckles, then nods, “Yes, that’s one thing I can say I’ve never done until tonight.” He sobers then, his face twisting into a frown as he ponders how to phrase his thoughts, “I don’t know what came over me tonight. I just know that I’ve never felt such a sudden connection to anyone in my life, and there’s no rhyme or reason to any of it.” He shifts, dropping her gaze as he confesses, “I know this might sound forward of me, but I simply can’t bear the thought of leaving after tonight and never seeing you again.”

Her hand reaches for his, and she laces their fingers together and squeezes in reassurance causing his eyes to move back to hers, before smiling, “I feel the same.”

Robin’s answering grin is wide, though it falls a bit when he realizes that he is heading back to London tomorrow. And of course just when he meets a woman that intrigues him, that is stunning in every way and that he feels an inexplicable connection to, he has to leave.

She notices his change in demeanor and her hand rises to his cheek, “What is it?”

He sighs, “I leave for London tomorrow.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, oh.” He laughs hollowly, “And of course when I meet someone as enchanting as you.” He watches her blush and shake her head. God, she really has no idea how beautiful she is. She deserves someone who will treat her like the queen she is. Someone that he longs to be, and yet here he is in her bed hours after meeting her. He supposes he kind of fucked up with the gentlemanly thing he had going. Still though, “The thing is, I would love nothing more than to take you out on a date. A proper date to show you that I can in fact be a gentleman, despite, well” He chuckles, “what just happened.”

Regina smiles and bites her lip, “I’m not complaining.”

Robin grins, winks, “Neither am I, milady. I simply mean that I want to court you, despite our rather, uh, unusual circumstances.”

She tilts her head, smirks and scrunches her nose at him, “Court me?”

He huffs a laugh, “Yes, well...” God, he’s really cocking this whole thing up, isn’t he?

“I’d love that.”

His brows raise in astonishment, “You would?” Regina smiles and nods at him, says _Yes_ and he releases a breath he didn’t even know he was holding and chuckles briefly, “Well, that’s a relief.”

The only issue now is how, and when...and where. Why is life so bloody complicated? He’s about to ask her those same questions when she says, “I can come to you.”

His eyes widen, and she seems to take his shock as him freaking out because she is quickly backpedalling, “Unless you don’t want me to. It doesn’t matter. I only meant I could come to London because my sister moved there a few years ago, and I could use the trip as an excuse to visit her, but I can - “

For the second time tonight he silences her rambling with a kiss. It’s short and sweet and doesn’t linger beyond a light press of their lips. “I’d love nothing more than to take you on a date in London,” he whispers when they part.

Regina grins, and Robin knows he will dream about her smile for months to come and will do whatever it takes to see her wear it more often, “Okay.”

“Okay?”

She nods, “It’s a date.”

Robin is positively beaming, and he leans in to kiss her again, lingering longer this time, his tongue swiping at her upper lip, before he pulls back to look at her, “I can’t wait.”


End file.
